


The Sketchbook

by SmallRedRobin13



Series: Wraith Mahariel, Lily Hawke and Enansal Lavellan [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dalish Origin, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5633230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallRedRobin13/pseuds/SmallRedRobin13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wraith is always carrying a sketchbook with her. When Daveth attempts to pick it up, she attacks him. What is in that sketchbook and why does she call it the Dar Din'an?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Her Tainted Love

**Author's Note:**

> Dar Din'an means: 'To Be Dead', I think.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair, Ser Jory and Daveth discover what happens when you touch a raw nerve.

When Alistair met the new recruit, she was the exact opposite of what he expected. She, for one thing, had absolutely no idea what a Templar was, and got offended pretty easily, which in turn caused a less kinder and polite side to emerge. To add to the trouble she caused, this elf, whatever her reasons, didn’t like or trust humans.After Duncan had explained the mission, They were to head into the Wilderness for a few day to gather information, three vials of darkspawn blood and some documents that had been left behind in an abandoned Grey Warden Archive, he had pulled Alistair aside “Wraith, our newest recruit, has the Taint, so if she seems to get tired, order her to stop and rest. She’s grieving and angry, so sooner or later she’ll over-exert herself, and we don’t want anything to happen to her.” He had muttered, while the subject of the conservation sat a few meters away, packing her stuff into some sort of backpack she had brought with her. As she picked up a sketchbook, a wave of pain must have washed over her, as it slipped out of her hand. It then seemed like some deity was downright determined to embarrass Wraith as much as it could, since the wind picked at that very moment, allowing this deity to flip through the sketchbook until she found the most embarrassing one, which it did. The wind died once the book was open on a slightly water-stained sketch of an elf. But before Alistair could get a proper look, Daveth had snatched the book off the ground and looked at it “Who’s this?”. But inside of answer, he got a bow pointed at him.

“Put the Dar Din’an down. Now.” Wraith snarled, any trace of the taint gone. Gently, as to not startle her into firing, Daveth lowered the sketchbook while Ser Jory and Alistair crept up behind her, so they could restrain her without anyone getting shot. When they did manage to restrain her, she promptly twisted around and bit Alistair, hard, on the nose, meaning he loosened his grip on her wrist enough for her to slip it free and punch Ser Jory on the nose, who let go of her other wrist completely. Seeing her chance, Wraith grabbed the Sketchbook and hugged it to her chest. “She bit me!” Alistair complained while Ser Jory held his bruised cheek, and tried not to cry. Meanwhile, Duncan came over to see what was going on. He found a whimpering knight, a Grey Warden with bite marks on his nose, a Dalish elf hugging an old sktchbook, and a thief that looked partially bemused and partially scared out of his wits. “What happened?” Duncan asked with a weary sigh. “Daveth picked up Wraith’s sketchbook and she threatened him with her bow. Ser Jory and I tried to restrain her, she bit me on the nose and punched Ser Jory.” Alistair explained, his eyes never leaving the spot where Wraith was standing. “I’m sorry,” She said quietly, “It was pure instinct. I’m used to using that move on Tevinter Slavers and bandits, people who intend to kidnap or harm me, not people trying to stop me from shooting someone who just touched the Dar Din'an. I’m sorry, I overreacted.” Duncan looked thoughtful for a moment “Wraith, go and get Wynne. Daveth, Ser Jory and Alistair, I need to speak to you about something.” Wraith saluted and left to find Wynne. Duncan turned to the remaining three “I know she overreacted, but it was a small overreaction. Dalish clans are very close-knit, closer than most familys, and she has had to leave them, on her Keepers orders, to save her life, her best friend, the man she loved, just died and they couldn’t even find a body. For her, that’s like losing part of herself. Also, Dar Din’an means ‘To Be Dead’ in elvish, so if my guess is correct, those drawings are of people who have died. Daveth, what did I say about touching other peoples belongings. Alistair, Ser Jory, try to be more careful when restraining someone” He chastised, just as Wynne arrived. “What can I do for you Duncan?” She asked, after Duncan had dismissed The recruits “I need you to begin preparations for the Joining.” He told her, describing the details of what needed to be done. When the recruits finished packing, and glaring at Wraith, they began the mission into the Korcari wilds.


	2. In her Element

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party finds the old ruins, but they encounter problems within.

A few days later, they were about halfway through the mission, and Wraith was clearly in a lot of pain, leaving her no room for patience. So when Ser Jory began to panic about meeting the horde and dying, her immediate reaction was the roll her eyes and snap “You Shemlen have grown up in towns and cities, I have spent most of my Life in forests. For me, it’ll me fairly obvious if a massive horde is nearby, and, as Alistair said, Grey Wardens can sense Darkspawn. We won’t be caught by surprise, like those men were.”, “You see, Ser knight? We might die, but we'll be warned about it first.” Daveth muttered, as they continued into the wilderness, with Wraith leading the way. Alistair looked at the three of them, tensions were still high amongst them and he hoped that at least one of them would calm down before one of them, Wraith most likely, was killed or killed another. Soon he was so lost in his concerns that he didn’t notice that Wraith had stopped and crouched down until he nearly walked over her. “Watch it, Shemlen.” She snarled as she studied an indent in the mud “Can you sense any darkspawn nearby?” Alistair shook his head and Wraith straighted “We are not alone, and this footprint is humanoid. I suggest we move much quicker than our current pace.” Almost instantly Ser Jory and Alistair had drawn their swords and Daveth his daggers, while Wraith kept walking “You do realize they’re, in all likelihood, going to be on our side? No clans inhabit this area, the Chasind Wilders are usually peaceful, and a Witch of the Wilds wouldn’t appreciate being threatened.” She called behind her as she made her towards the ancient ruin which held their goal. The others looked to each other, before following, but they kept their weapons drawn.

As they reached the ruin, and entered it, Alistair couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched, analyzed even. Wraith seemed a little shaken all well. “Are you okay?” he asked her, “I don’t like ruins.” She muttered, pushing on ahead to the chest where the treaties were kept. As she searched among it, a voice cut through the ruins “Well, Well, what have we here?” The voice came from a catlike, raven-haired woman, who continued speaking as she made her way down the a pile of rubble “Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking a midst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?” her voice became even more condescending the closer she got. When Wraith didn’t answer, the woman’s impatience began to show “What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?” she snapped, and Wraith replied “I would first know who you are and where you come from.”. The Woman strolled through the group until she was behind the chest “Since you are the intruder, here. I believe the first question if rightfully mine. I have watched your progress for some time. ‘Where do they go,’ I wondered, ‘why are they here?’”.

If Alistair had possessed hackles, they would have definitely been up. “Don’t answer her,” he muttered to Wraith, “She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby.” “Whoo! You fear Barbarians will swoop down upon you?” the Woman mocked. Alistair was beginning to dislike her when he replied “Yes, swooping is bad.”. Like everyone else, Daveth was in no mood to jest when he exclaimed “She’s a Witch of the Wilds, she is! She’ll turn us into toads!”. With that statement, Daveth killed any respect the women present had for the men, Wraith rolled her eyes while the Woman continued to mock them “Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own? You there. Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell your name and I shall tell you mine.” Wraith, gave Alistair a look, and he sheathed his weapon. “I am Wraith. A pleasure to meet you.” She said, nodding her head in greeting. The Woman, for the first time, seemed impressed “Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan. Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?”. You could almost hear the cogs turning in Alistair head as he put the pieces together “‘Here no longer?’You stole them, didn’t you? You’re… some kind of… sneaky… witch-thief!” Wraith snorted, in an desperate attempt to keep her laughter back while Morrigan started to mock them yet again “How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?” “Quite easily, it seems. Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them.” Alistair fired back. “I will not, for ‘twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; I am not threatened.” Morrigan snarled. Eager to keep the peace, Wraith asked who did remove them, to which Morrigan replied “T’was my mother, in fact.” 

“Can you take us to her?” It seemed that Wraith was either very determined, or very stupid, at least in Alistair’s eyes. Perhaps she was too angry or in too much pain to care about the consequences. “There is a sensible request” Morrigan smiled, “I like you.” Daveth looked nervous at this thought. “I’d be careful.” Alistair warned, “First it’s ‘I like you’ but then ‘Zap!’ Frog time.”. “She’ll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch.” Daveth cried out in fear. “If the pot’s warmer than this forest, it’d be a nice change” grumbled Ser Jory. Morrigan turned and began to walk away “Follow me then, if it pleases you.”. Without hesitation, Wraith followed.


	3. The Witch of The Wilds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair, Wraith, Ser Jory and Daveth meets Morrigan's Mother

After a bit a walking, they arrived at a rundown cottage behind a swampy pond. Standing in front of the cottage was an old woman dressed in rags with hair like it was made of rats tails that twisted away from her head. “That’s her mother?” Daveth muttered, while Wraith seemed to recognize her. Morrigan began to introduce them “Greetings Mother. I bring before you four Grey Wardens who—”  
“I see them, girl.” Her mother snapped, “Hmm. Much as I expected.”. Alistair’s smirk was laced with disdain “Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?”. Morrigan,s mother seemed to be even more of an old crone, the more the talked to her. “You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one’s eyes tight, or open one’s arms wide… either way, one’s a fool!” She scolded, somehow getting away with treating an armed, full grown man like a young boy. “She’s a witch, I tell you! We shouldn’t be talking to her!” Daveth told the others, receiving a few quiet glares for his input. “Quiet, Daveth! If she’s really a witch, do you want to make her mad?” Ser Jory pointed out, while Wraith seemed to consider slitting both their throats to shut them up. Morrigan’s mother seemed pleased by this logic “There is a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will. And what of you? Does your elven mind give you a different viewpoint? What do you believe?” She nodded towards Wraith, who had spent most of the conservation deep in thought.

“I believe you are Asha’Belannar, and that all the men present are fools. I may be proved wrong on both accounts.” She answered, ignoring the resulting “Hey!” from Alistair. Morrigan’s Mother seemed amused, “You believe I am ‘The Woman of Many Years’? My, I haven’t been called that in a long time. You are, almost right on both accounts, I suppose I am Asha’Belannar, and not all the men present are fools. So much about you is uncertain… and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!” Alistair clearly didn’t see what the Chasind saw “So this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?” He asked, sniggering. “Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it! Of, how she dances under the moon!” she said mockingly. Morrigan sighed “They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother.” Her Mother nodded “True, they came for their treaties, yes? And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these.” Alistair immediatlly began barking “You…” but when Morrigan’s Mother’s words finally sank in, he stopped “Oh. You protected them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asha'Belannar: The Woman Of Many Years, how the Dalish refer to Flemeth


	4. Of Memories and Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wraith offer answers, some of them to questions not asked.

Morrigan’s Mother snorted “And why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight’s threat is greater then they realize!”. Daveth and Ser Jory looked relieved at the prospect of of leaving, while Wraith almost looked disappointed as she was handed the documents. “Thank you for returning them,” She replied. “Such manners!” Morrigan’s Mother exclaimed, “Always in the last place you look, like stockings! Oh, do not mind me, you have what you came for!” Morrigan turned to the party “Time for you to go then.” Wraith nodded, and shouldered her pack “Of course.” She called behind her as she began the arduous journey back.

That night, Wraith placed the sketchbook in front of the others. “I owe you all and apology… and an explanation.” She murmured. “Yes. You do. Several in fact.” Daveth growled, “What does Asha’Belanner mean? What is the Dar Din’an?”. Wraith considered her answers carefully before speaking “Asha’Belanner means ‘The Woman of Many Years’ and the Dar Din’an was a gift on my 5th birthday.” Daveth looked suspicious “So you called Morrigan’s Mother old? You still haven’t answered my second question.” Wraith smiled, tears in her eyes “In a sense. The Dar Din’an is my way of remembering people. Before I was five I thought the woman who raised me was my mother. On my 5th birthday I was told that my parents were dead, and she gave me a sketchbook with a sketch of them in it. Soon after, bandits attacked our camp and one of our clan was killed. Just hours before I had drawn him in the sketchbook, and I became convinced that whatever I drew in my sketchbook would die. Ever since I have only drawn dead things, so I guess as time passed it became less of a cursed item, and more of a memorial. I tried to attack Daveth because the man in the sketchbook is called Tamlen, and… he was killed by the blight, Daveth was treating him with so little respect and I lost my temper. I also didn’t like the idea of a human, and a thief, touching something so valuable to me.”. For the first time this year, Alistair was speechless, this elf had made it clear that she hated humans, yet she was laying her heart bare to the three of them, showing that she had come to… trust them? Ser Jory didn’t pick up on this display, and destroyed the moment “You hate humans? What have we ever done to you?!” He yelled. “Hmm… let me see… your kind has stolen my people’s homeland _twice_ , killed my father, drove my mother away, inadvertently caused the death of Tamlen, forced my people to become nomads or live in slums, tried to enslave us, and, according to the Chantry, caused the Blight, which is slowly killing me. Shall I go on?” She snapped back. Meanwhile Alistair gave his forehead a massage and Daveth started preparing dinner.


End file.
